Lord of the Grey
by jCOOLn
Summary: Harry is chased into the Warhammer Fantasy Universe at the age of ten. He shows an unnatural level of talent for manipulating the Wind of Death. An elder vampire teaches him necromancy and dark magic as he grows up. All the while Voldemort's soul fragment is whispering in his head. Yet, Harry has no intentions of being a servant. Regardless of the means, he will be free.


**Title: Lord of the Grey**

 **Chapter One: Apprenticeship**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Warhammer Fantasy, so please do not sue me**

 **-I am a free writer, I write when I feel like it, and I am not on a schedule. Updates will be infrequent.**

 **-If I lose interest in this story I might just stop writing it all together, though in the future I may find interest in it again and then take up updating it then.**

 **-There may be lemons, profane language, death, prostitution, abuse, torture, lying, and possibly other sins in this story. If this bothers you, then do not read. You have been warned.**

 **-He may or may not participate in polygamy, extramarital relations, and or other acts of sexuality, though no homosexuality, so if this bothers you then do not read.**

 **XXX**

One day, Harry was being chased through the streets by none other than his older cousin and the gang he ran who were hot on his heels. While skinny, he was very quick, which gave him the advantage over the bigger kids. Unfortunately, the gang were able to use their numbers to box him in. Not wanting the inevitable beating that would follow, he cut into a local park.

Dudley had his gang follow him in. There were more trees than Harry remembered. As he pushed through the trees, sounds began to come from the distance. Believing the sounds to be the next street over he pressed on constantly hearing Dudley's gang getting closer and closer. Once he made it through he realized something was very much off.

In front of him was no street he had ever seen. Instead it was a bloody battlefield with corpses scattered in every direction. Massive creatures with animal features were screaming at the top of their lungs as vast numbers of their kind slammed into ranks of walking skeletons. Corpses from countless horror films shambled across the battlefield falling upon the animal people to tear their flesh from bone.

One of the beastly kind roared in challenge as he ran into the hoards of skeletons swinging his massive axe to and from sending pieces of decaying humans flying in every direction. Its cries of victory were short lived as a massive beast fell upon it from the sky. Claws like sickles pierced the monster's flesh causing it to cry agony before fangs latched onto its neck. The bite crunched bones with ease before in a twisting motion it removed the Beastman's head from his shoulders.

More of the animal featured creatures continued to pour in from the forest while their dead seemed to stand back up only to fall upon their former allies. It soon became a war of attrition that the dead were gaining the upper hand.

Harry was in such a state of shack that he didn't even notice as his cousin and his game came from the tree lines. Their attention was soon diverted from beating up Harry to watching with morbid horror as the macabre battle turned into a flesh grinder. The group of children continued to watch as life was spent like change to masters who cared not for their soldiers.

In shock Harry accidentally awoke his Witch Sight. The shifting shades of color that defined magic became perfectly clear to him. His horror soon shifted to amazement as the colors danced about the battlefield in telling ways.

Following the shifting shades of magic, he saw a man step out of the tree line unlike any he had ever seen before. He was bald with tribal tattoos dotting his face and scalp. Animal furs clung to his body that seemed worn beyond description. In one hand was a crude scythe that had skulls of humans tied to its blade. There were also skulls tied to the sash around his waist. Bones pierced his ears and the sides of his neck just under the skin. All in all, he looked quite intimidating.

Watching with rapt attention as the man lifted his left hand as the colors began to whorl around it. A wave of black fog radiated from his palm moments later. All the corpses on the ground, that had been reduced to pieces were soon being pulled back together. The effects were quick as the corpses soon stood up and added their numbers to the growing hoard.

A scream passed over the entire battlefield. Looking back, Harry saw that it was his cousin. Dudley had snapped under the pressure of what he had seen and was now backing up in disbelief. He pushed several of his friends out of the way before running back into the forest. His friends soon followed their fearless leader's example and ran. Their backs soon disappeared in the foliage as they backtracked their path hoping to return home to safety.

Seeing that the snarling beastmen had spotted him, Harry decided to follow suit. He ran through the forest pushing leaves and limbs out of his way. Some of Dudley's friends had split up. Their screams of terror were coming from every direction at that point.

Harry stepped into a clearing just long enough to see one of the beastly men standing over the ratty faced friend of Dudley who was basically his yes man. His life was snuffed out in an instant by a downward swung axe. Blood splashed onto Harry's face, but went ignored. Only the insanity that radiated from the beastly creature whose attentions now fell upon him mattered in that moment. He screamed something into the air that Harry didn't understand as he lifted his axe up to end his life as well.

Time seemed to slow down in an instant for Harry. His eyes following the rising axe with trepidation. The monster wanted to end his life like so many who had met him before. Yet, he didn't want to die. It was not his time. There were so many things that he wanted to do. He didn't know what it was he wanted to do, but dying before his eleventh birthday was not one of them.

What Harry didn't know was that all around him the Purple Winds of Death were swirling at an unnatural rate. As death grew closer to him their strength grew in intensity. Soon their magnificence could be seen for miles away. All life began to wither and die all around him, except for those in the eye of the storm. Just as the blade was about to reach Harry's skull, his overwhelming will to live unleashed a portion of his innate power.

The purple blast reduced the Beastman to dust in an instant. Even the crude iron axe it held aloft was aged until its form fell apart. Small fragments fell into the pile of dust the had formed beneath where the monster once stood.

Around Harry life came to an end. The grass had gone from a vibrant green to a fossilized white. The trees which once stood tall and proud now were held aloft by a foundation on the verge of crumbling to dust. The leaves had fallen like snow after every cell in their structure were robbed of life. Even stone cracked and crumbled into sand. At the end everything touched by the subconsciously crafted spell was as if it had experienced ten thousand years in a moment.

As Harry blinked his consciousness came back to him. He fell to his knees as his breath was finally let loose. Looking around at the devastation there was no remorse in his actions. There was only joy. He was happy to be alive. He had saved himself for the first time in his life.

Looking down at his trembling hands as his mind tried to understand what had just happened. A strange sound caught his attention. His eyes, who's Witch Sight was still active, watched as a tortured soul rose out of the dust from which the monster had been reduced to. It lingered for only a moment before fading away. Wherever the soul went he could no longer see.

The clinking of metal soon caught his ears. Looking off to the left a large being stepped into the artificial clearing. His suit of armor looked ancient, almost as if he had been caught up in the spell earlier, but it was the aura about him that drew in Harry's attention. It was not the vibrant purple that seemed to naturally permeate the air, but a blackish-purple that moved with a more viscous motion. It was almost as if several of the colors had been blended together to form one.

"Now that was interesting." The knight's voice seemed distant. It was strange as it sounded as if he were even further away. "I never would have thought a child capable of wielding magic like that."

Scared, Harry began to back up. The knight didn't seem to take notice of this. He just kept walking straight for him. Looking around all Harry could see was an open clearing. After a moment he began to judge whether he could make it into the forest before the knight could get him. He was sure that with all that armor on it would slow him down considerably. Unfortunately, before he could make his decision, more of the Beastmen came charging out of the forest.

The knight turned to meet them. "Foolish creatures." His seemingly ancient blade was held to one side as his shield was readied in front of him. "They always charge forward." Glowing eyes hidden behind the darkness of his helm turned towards Harry. "If you want to live then I suggest you get behind me."

Seeing no other choice Harry ran behind the large knight. For the next fifteen minutes he watched as the knight slew the insane beastly creatures one after the other. His sword easily cut through whatever crude armor they had been able to cobble together. The few times any of them even got to swing at him was effortlessly blocked by his shield. One of them was even so unfortunate as to have his skull caved in by a particularly vicious blow from the knight's shield.

When all the Beastmen were dead the big knight was not even breathing heavily. As a matter of fact, standing so close to the knight he could feel the strange magic radiating from him. To Harry it was almost as if every cell in this man's body was infused with a ton of magic.

The knight turned around and suddenly Harry realized just how vulnerable he was. In fright he began trying to grasp the purple colors he used to craft his spell, but a sharp blade still coated with blood was placed against his nick. Looking up, he could see those glowing eyes. It was only then that Harry realized that this man was also undead. He was an Undead Knight.

"Try to craft a spell little wizard and I will cut your head from your shoulders." This was said completely devoid of emotion. "Do you understand me?" Harry nodded his head slowly in fright trying not to accidently let the blade cut him. "Good." He removed the blade from Harry's neck. This drew out a small sigh of relief. "Follow me." The knight made a gesture as he began walking in one direction. Seeing no other choice, Harry followed him.

They walked across the dead clearing. The entire way Harry couldn't help but look from his hands to the fossilized clearing. The audible crushing as the formerly vibrant grass was smashed like glass under their feet was the only sound either of them made. It still did not make sense to him that he could so something like this.

Once they made it to the tree line there were some clashes off in the distance. The battle must have still been ongoing. The knight had yet to put his blade away. Harry wasn't sure if this was because he was preparing for more enemies to attack them, or if he was staying read to kill him should he disobey his orders.

He wanted to know where the undead knight was taking him. Questions continued to pile up in his mind, but he was too scared to ask his host. The man seemed the strong silent type. He was also extremely deadly, and it did not go unnoticed by Harry that he had dodged death several times already. There was no need to tempt fate.

After ten minutes of walking it became apparent to Harry that they were walking in the direction where the fighting was loudest. Looking at the knight in confusion, but holding his tongue, he wondered why. After stepping over another dead body they came to another clearing. This time however there was a gloomy looking fortress in the far distance.

The fortress looked strange. It was very old, with strange ethereal flames lit outside the windows. It was cloaked in mist that hung over the forest for some distance. The mist was obviously magical as Harry could see how the colors mixed together with the real world to create such an unnatural effect. While the towers were not of any ridiculous height there were several of them. The one at the center was the largest.

Around the tower was a moat that seemed only passable by the drawbridge at the base of a sizable wall. Small forms could be made out from the distance. Perhaps archers were stationed up there incase any Beastmen were able to break past the undead army.

"Come." The distant voice of his possible protector snapped his attention back to the ready.

He had to practically jog to keep up with the man's large steps. The Beastmen warheard was being kept at bay by hoards of undead. They had been lucky enough to come out of the forest behind the undead. That, or his guide had known where the fighting was taking place, and had adjust their walk to keep them safe. Either way it meant they were probably safe for a while.

There was a man in the distance. He was the only one who didn't seem to be a shambling zombie or mindless skeleton. His armor was immaculate, if covered in blood. It was black with a baroque style to it. At his hip was a sword while in his outstretched hand was a staff. Under him was an obviously undead horse by the witch fire in its eyes. Even it was armored in a fashion that resembled its master. It was obviously a custom job. Still, Harry wondered what kind of man would get matching sets of armor for himself and his horse.

As if sensing him the man turned in their direction. In that moment it became obvious to Harry that this man was not human. His skin was like old parchment and pale as bleached bone. His eyes were sunken in with the iris completely black. The worst part was how emaciated he was. It was as if the man's skin had been pulled over his skull. He didn't even have real lips. They seemed to be just two lines pressed together.

As horrifying as he was the magic that oozed from him eclipsed that of even the undead knight who was escorting him. How this creature became so powerful was beyond Harry. He really wanted to be powerful, but not if it did that to his face. He didn't know who or what this man was. All he knew was that he was very powerful.

"I see that you have returned." His eyes flickered to Harry. "And you brought me a snack. How thoughtful of you."

A tingle ran up Harry's spine. It became apparent what he was, after looking into his black eyes. This was only compounded upon as he revealed a pair of elongated fangs.

The Undead Knight stepped in front of Harry. "No. The master wants to speak with the boy."

A thin, almost non-existent, eyebrow rose an inch. "The master sent you to locate the powerful surge of magic. He will not be pleased when you bring back such a paltry consolation prize."

"This boy is the source of that magical surge." The both turned to look at Harry.

A cold laugh came from the horse bound man. "Surely you jest? He is but a child. No child, no matter how talented, could have created a surge of death magic that powerful."

The Undead Knight didn't react in the slightest. "And yet this one did."

A snort came from the vampire's nostrils. "Very well, it is your un-life. Do with it as you wish."

They both looked towards the front lines for a moment.

"How is the battle going?" The Undead Knight asked nonchalantly.

"This is just another band of rabble. They were never anything to worry about." His eyes continued to watch the bloodshed. A bloodthirsty smirk started to form on his face. "Just more food for us and more corpses to add to the master's armies."

Standing in relative safety for the first time in hours allowed Harry to come down from his adrenaline high. The first thing he noticed was the gut wrenching smell. The dead and decaying smells hit him like a wall. Mixed with such horrible smells was the unwashed beastly scent coming from the Beastmen. The horrid smell had him emptying the contents of his stomach within moments.

He stood up wiping the bile from the side of his lips. He was surprised neither of the two men insulted him for his lack of resilience. In fact, they both seemingly ignored him in favor of watching the battle.

"Has the Beastlord shown himself yet?"

The vampire shook his head. "No, and that is what's so odd about this fight. Usually they are the first to run into battle. It usually makes repulsing these monsters much easier. Instead, this one is hiding in the back. I would say he's using his brain, but it is unlikely."

Before the conversation could progress, the earth started to shake. The sound of trees being knocked over came soon after. A roar went up into the air causing a silence to fall over the battlefield. Not long after did the source of such noise reveal itself.

Harry's stomach dropped upon seeing the beast. It was over ten feet tall and twisted beyond belief. Three horns sprouted from its head growing in random directions like weeds. Its mouth was a horrid mismatch of teeth seemingly pulled from every type of beast and then shoved into a single jaw. Nasty matted fur coated its entire body. Scars created a story of its miserable life for the world to see.

The worst part was its single eye. It was glazed yet glowed with a dim light. Instincts previously unaware to him urged to prevent being spotted by that eye. Why, he did not know. All he knew was to be seen was to risk a fate worse than death.

While Harry was nearly overcome with fear the two ancient beings beside him looked on passively. Nether one of them feared the beast.

"Do you want this one, or should I take care of it."

The undead knight looked down at his blade, and then turned to look at Harry. The witch fire it had for eyes bored into him for a moment. Eventually, he put his sword into its sheath.

"You can have it. My main priority is protecting this child for the master."

"Hmph, I never thought the day would come when the great Burrow King Sharu would turn down a fight." A fanged grin spread across his mocking face. "How time can change anything."

"I agree." Sharu stood there motionlessly. "As I never thought the great Zacharias would ever try to goad someone into fighting for him." The armored head of the undead knight turned towards the vampire. "Has controlling this tiny army really weakened you so much that a Cygor is too much for you to handle?"

Fury spread over the vampire's face. Harry stepped back in fear. He was almost sure he would try and cut their heads off. Sharu just watched the vampire without an ounce of fear in him. Eventually the undead staring match subsided.

"I fear nothing." Grabbing the reins of his horse he urged to forward. The thunderous charge moved swiftly across the battlefield straight for the monster.

"He is so easy to manipulate." Sharu shook his head slightly. "One day it will be the final death of him."

Harry watched as the vampire did battle with the Cygor. The vampire was easy the more skilled of the two. The Cygor was just a beast while the vampire was something else altogether. Just like the stories he had heard in the library the vampire moved with inhuman speed while delivering strikes greater than any human could hope to. Blood splattered everywhere and the Cygor cried out in agony, but refused to fall.

After a moment the vampire worked its way behind the Cygor where it began hacking at its Achilles tendon. After a few swift strikes they were severed sending the behemoth do the ground. As it cried out in agony the vampire was upon it swiftly. His blade pierced through the Cygor's spine with one swift thrust stopping its futile attempts at standing back up.

Harry was quite amazed. "He did it."

"Yes, but he left his flank open." The Wight King pointed off out towards the distance.

Following the Wight King's finger, he saw some movement. Eventually a small group of Beastmen could be seen. Most of them were blooded and screaming at the top of their lungs. They crashed into the undead army from the flank cutting into the rotting bodies with a vengeance.

"It was a trap!"

"Doubtful." Harry looked up at the motionless Wight King. "More than likely these are survivors from a previous engagement. They probably just regrouped with what few survivors were left and came searching for the main host. Likely, they were just lucky to attack when they did, and where they did."

Harry watched in amazement. It did not seem real to him. The chances of something like that seemed too low. Yet, he knew nothing of war. He was only ten after all. The lesson he could take from watching such a battle was to never let one's guard down. The vampire was overconfident and was now paying for it. These were lessons Harry would have to learn to survive.

"Are you going to help him?"

The Wight King looked down on him for a moment. After what felt like an eternity he spoke.

"No." With that, he began walking towards the fortress. "Follow me."

"Yes, my lord."

Sharu looked back at Harry for a moment. His face was completely unreadable. After a moment he looked back towards the fortress. It did not take long for Harry to catch up with him. Together they walked in silence leaving behind the raging battlefield. None of the Beastmen paid them any attention, so the walk was relatively peaceful.

 **XXX**

The stillness bothered Harry more than anything. As the undead knight called Sharu escorted him through the fortress, it became clear nothing living resided within. The guards the lined the walls were all skeletons dressed in ancient chain mail. Some of them had plate, though they were quite rare. As of yet, Harry had not seen another like Sharu. For that reason alone, he would have dubbed the Barrow King as unique.

It became apparent that the architecture had been changed over the years. There had once been a modest element to the fortress before the undead took it for their own. Now it had an heir of dread mixed with gaudy luxury. Paintings of pale faced individuals with blood red eyes lined the walls framed by ornate gold portraits.

They passed by many open doors where small libraries filled several of them. At times, it seemed like Sharu was taking him through a haunted library. It amazed him that they had numerous undead soldiers guarding the place yet not one undead maid to keep the place clean. He could only assume that the undead didn't mind the place being a little dirty.

There were several times Harry wanted to ask Sharu for a break. He had been chased into the forest, through the forest, then had to power walk through another potion of the forest, before having to do the same to the fortress, where he was forced to continue to the highest tower. The flight of stairs seemed to be the last straw as his breathing continued to grow heavier.

Eventually however, they reached their destination. Harry was trying to hide his heavy breathing as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

Sharu didn't seem to notice as he walked up to a massive door. Two heavily armored undead crossed their pikes preventing him from proceeding. He didn't seem to mind and waited there. The tension started to grow in Harry's gut. Before it could get beyond his control a voice called out from behind the door.

"You may enter." With that the undead guards returned to their resting position.

When Sharu opened the door, Harry's eyes shot in every direction trying to memorize the room. It was slightly larger than the Dursley's home, minus the second floor. Numerous books lined the far side of the room that oozed a cold power. To his left was a medieval alchemical lab. Numerous potions of every color in the rainbow were either boiling or setting on the counter. The ingredients held in the back were very strange, and in some cases disturbing. That was nothing next to the five corpses lying on tables to the right. Each of them were strapped to a table for some reason. Harry figured the less he knew the better.

Standing in the center of the room had to be the man Sharu called master. He was even uglier and more wizen than Zacharias while obviously still being a vampire. His armor was far more ancient than the lesser vampire's, less taken care of, but seemingly coated in magical energies. If Zacharias was akin to a large bonfire in power than his master was a burning house. The power far eclipsed that of his student. Such power left Harry momentarily speechless.

"My master, I have returned." Sharu knelt before the elder vampire. After quickly snapping out of his stupor Harry followed his example.

"I can see that Sharu." The elder vampire's eyes flickered towards Harry. "Still, not what I was expecting." He made a gesture towards Harry for him to come closer.

Harry looked at Sharu who did not return his look. Gulping down his fear he stood up and walked over to the incredibly powerful vampire lord. He was almost positive the vampire was just going to bite his neck and kill him. instead his wizen fingers grabbed hold of his face. The power behind his fingers was incredible.

"You boy, have potential."

Shocked, he spoke through his pinched face. "Thank you, my lord."

"You will refer to him as Lord Melkhior or Master Melkhior. Am I understood." The darkness in those eyes terrified Harry. He quickly shook his head in acknowledgement. "Good, now explain to me what happened in the forest."

"My Lord, I mean Lord Melkhior." He looked at the vampire whose back was now turned to him. He let out a breath of relief. "What would you like to know."

Faster than the eye can see a pale hand grabbed him by the face and picked him up off his feet. The pain was immense, but he refused to let it show.

"The howls of Shysh, child." The elder vampire was practically yelling at him at this point. "How did you make them sing for you so beautifully?"

Harry's hands were on the elder vampire's, but not to remove them. The grip was far to great for his strength to do any good. Instead he just used them to help support his neck. In between his gasps for air he explained what happened. Eventually the elder vampire let him fall to the floor.

"An accident?" His black eyes followed him like a stalking predator. "My boy, you have quite a bit of talent." His hand reached out this time, and Harry flinched, but instead of pain his cold fingered caressed Harry's face. "I think I would like to nurture such talent."

"Master Melkhior?" Harry was confused. The mood swings of this vampire were terrifying. Out of the corner of his eye he was sure he even saw Sharu twitch at the statement. "I do not understand."

The elder vampire walked through the large room with inhuman grace. His hands brushed past various artifacts as he walked by. The dead corpses seemed to shiver as he drew near them. Eventually he stopped when in front of his personal collection of magical tomes.

"What is there to understand?" A twisted grin split his face not unlike that of the other vampire. "I offer you the opportunity to learn magic from of the greatest stores of arcane knowledge. All I ask for in return is your loyal servitude. You help me, and I help you."

The elder vampire began browsing through his personal collection. After a moment he pulled a tome from amongst the shelves. It was brown in color was a leather bond hide covering. The words were faded from age, but he was able to make out the words _Grimoire Necronium_. To Harry's shock he handed it to him.

"This tome is very valuable. In fact, it could be described as priceless." Harry tentatively took the book. "Think of this as a show of faith. I am not hiding any secrets from you, so you do not hide any from me. Are we in agreement."

Harry was no fool. Young, yes, but a fool he was not. Taking the book would mean he became a servant to a terrifying elder vampire, but if he didn't then the consequences were almost assured. Either he would enslaved, or killed and made into an undead slave. Either way it was a fate he wished to avoid. In loo of that he took the book.

"Good." The elder vampire looked at him like he had just won some great prize. "It will take some time, but in a few years, you should be a respectable necromancer. Should you prove yourself worthy then I might even give you the blood kiss." Lord Melkhior must have seen the confused look on his face. "The Blood Kiss is how vampires make new vampires."

Harry bowed his head lowly. "Thank you, Master Melkhior."

Melkhior placed his gaunt fingers on Harry's head in a mockery of a parental pat of approval. The elder vampire's eyes focused on Sharu who was still kneeling. "Sharu, escort Harry to his new quarters."

Sharu stood up. "Yes, Lord Melkhior." Before the Barrow King could take more than two steps his master stopped him.

"You will also be acting as his martial instructor." Even Sharu reacted to that, if only slightly. "See to it that the boy knows how to swing a sword and lead armies." A dark look passed over the elder vampire's face. Harry took a step back in fright. "Zacharias' latest blunder will not happen again. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Lord Melkhior." With that Sharu bowed once more before escorting Harry out of their master's study.

As they walked down the stairwells Harry looked at the magic tome. It was cold to the touch and emanated a strange magic. It almost felt unclean to the touch. Considering how things had turned out he knew that his position was not a good one.

"Master Sharu, what do you think my chances of surviving are."

The Barrow King looked back at him. He stared at Harry for a good long while. "That is entirely up to you." With that he turned around and continued walking down the stairs.

Harry gulped, but powered on. Soon he caught up with his mentor while clutching the book tightly to his chest.


End file.
